


Dirt and Pine

by positronic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cabins, Canonical Character Death (mentioned), Family Issues, First Meeting, Geographical Isolation, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Strangers to Lovers, backpacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positronic/pseuds/positronic
Summary: Steve shivered as another strong breeze picked up, pulling his jacket closer around his neck. Just his luck that a storm would be brewing while he was in the middle of nowhere, everything looking the exact same as it had days, weeks, a month ago.As pretty as these forests and mountains were, green was quickly losing its spot as one of his favorite colors. Trees towered over him and various plants were sprawled out over the forest floor to the point where the dirt below was barely noticeable. Birds were chirping above Steve as he walked, eyes on his feet so he could watch where he was stepping. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of yesterday.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Dirt and Pine

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be part of a larger fic, but I've kinda lost steam on it (instead focusing on other projects, plus IRL things), so I figured I'd wrap it up as is and send it off into the world. It should hopefully stand okay on its own, but if the ending seems a bit abrupt that is why. But, imagine all the fun things that can happen after this! I sure did, even if the rest of it isn't actually getting written. 
> 
> Also, in case it is confusing, Steve is neither pre- nor post-serum. He's in between. More Tony-sized than anything, but a bit larger and more built.
> 
> Thanks to HeLovedYou for the beta + advice!

Steve shivered as another strong breeze picked up, pulling his jacket closer around his neck. Just his luck that a storm would be brewing while he was in the middle of nowhere, everything looking the exact same as it had days, weeks, a month ago. 

As pretty as these forests and mountains were, green was quickly losing its spot as one of his favorite colors. Trees towered over him and various plants were sprawled out over the forest floor to the point where the dirt below was barely noticeable. Birds were chirping above Steve as he walked, eyes on his feet so he could watch where he was stepping. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of yesterday. 

As if on cue, he grimaced and let go of his jacket, sticking one hand behind him and up the bottom of his shirt, pulling the still damp fabric away from his back. Despite trying to dry them as best he could, his clothes were still mildly damp with river water, and his right arm still burned where he had scraped it along the tiny rocks at the river’s shore. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Steve looked up, pausing where he was standing.

Just ahead of him was a clearing in the trees that lead out onto a dirt road, just barely carved into the dense forest around it. Steve resumed walking and came to the edge of it, looking both directions curiously, but the road was fully empty. The dirt no longer had any kind of tire marks on it, the most recent ones likely swept away by the weather. 

Steve stared for a moment before pulling his map out of his pocket, opening it and looking it over, eyebrows furrowed. His sense of direction was by no means perfect, especially when everything around him looked the same, but he had thought that he was at least ten or so miles from the nearest road. 

Steve pursed his lips, looked up to the road, down to the map, then back to the road, before folding up the map and shoving it back in his pocket, heading along it. He had been planning on heading a little East anyway, so at least this way he could do what he planned while satisfying his curiosity a little. 

After Steve had been walking for a while, the road began to narrow as it wound its way through the trees. Ahead, a small cabin came into view, brightly colored wood contrasting greatly against the dark tones of the trees around it. Vines were beginning to creep up the outside walls of the cabin, and small wildflowers littered the ground just off the path. An old, grey truck was parked just off the path as well, covered in a thin layer of dirt. There was another smaller building off to the left of the cabin, a big lock on the outside, likely an effort to keep animals out. 

Steve’s stomach rumbled, practically begging him to eat something, and he sighed to himself. This was such a bad idea, but the food in his pack was wearing thin, and what was left of his fruit and nuts was soggy. 

After a moment of debate, he started walking up the path toward the front door. The worst thing that could happen was that he could be murdered, but that wasn’t much of a step down from what he had been through the past few months. Steve unzipped his jacket a little bit, giving his mouth room to speak, and knocked on the door. 

A few moments later, the door swung open, revealing a man who looked more confused than anyone Steve had ever seen before. He was a little shorter than Steve, his hair obviously not combed, stubble a few days overdue for a trim, and weirdly close to his own age. Steve probably looked similar, having been living outdoors for the past month.

“Um,” the guy said, staring at him.

“Um. Hi?”

“Hi…” he said slowly, looking Steve up and down, “can I help you?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, shifting on his feet awkwardly. The guy just stared at him, one eyebrow raised, and Steve cleared his throat. 

“Uh, yeah. Maybe. I was wonderin’ if you had any food to spare?” Steve said tentatively, and grimaced slightly. He tried his best to give the man a friendly smile, but he could feel it falling flat. “I… All my food got soaked yesterday. I don’t have much left. I was plannin’ on headin’ toward the main road but…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

The guy just stared at him for a moment before he stepped back and opened the door.

“Sure, I guess. I can get you something. You’re not a murderer, right?” the guy asked, eyes still on Steve as he walked in. “I’m Tony, by the way.”

“Steve. And shouldn't I be asking you that?”

Tony huffed. Not quite a laugh, but close. He closed the door behind Steve and gestured to the couch in the middle of the small living room. The only things in the room were the couch, pressed against the wall, a small table with two chairs, and a tiny kitchen. It wasn’t much, but it was more like home than anywhere Steve had been in the past few months. 

Steve pulled his backpack off and put it on the floor, practically collapsing onto the couch; he had to hold back a moan at the feeling of the soft cushions compared to the hardness of the dirt he had been sitting on for so long. He watched as Tony closed the front door and crouched by the fireplace, adding another log to it. 

“Nice place you got here. Very… homey,” he said, feeling awkward. It didn’t  _ look  _ like somewhere where he would get murdered, but it’s not like Steve had experience with that. 

“Uh, thanks,” Tony said, eyes flicking back up to Steve’s, still wary. Steve didn’t blame him. This whole situation was practically a set up to one of those “Don’t Talk to Strangers” films they showed to kids in school. 

“Did you build this place yourself?” Steve asked. He had his hands politely in his lap, backpack tucked up against the side of his leg. He watched as Tony stood back up and wandered over to the small kitchen against the wall. There wasn’t a fridge, as there seemed to be no electricity, but there was a small wood stove surrounded by counters and a couple cupboards. 

“Sure did. It’s not much, but… yeah. Built it myself.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed politely, watching as Tony fluttered about the kitchen. 

“What’re you doing up here, anyway? I don’t really… get visitors… up here,” Tony said, pausing in his efforts to get the food ready and turned to look at Steve skeptically. 

“I’ve been… wanderin’ around, I guess. For the past month or so. Just explorin’. Been doin’ pretty well on my own, but a stray rock got me yesterday. Fell into the river. Got my pack and clothes all wet.”

“I see…” Tony said. His gaze wandered from Steve to his pack on the floor, then back to Steve. “Tell you what. I got some water heating up outside in the back. I was planning on bathing myself, but I get the feeling you need it more than I do. You go wash up and I’ll cook us some lunch. You can borrow some of my clothes,” he paused and looked Steve over again. “They might be a little small, but they’ll work.” 

“Oh… I couldn’t-” Steve started, but Tony interrupted him.

“Sure you can,” he said. He walked into a door at the end of the room, coming back out a moment later with a pile of fabric he tossed to Steve. “Here. Now go wash up. Lunch will be ready soon. Hope you like homemade elk jerky and potatoes, ‘cause that’s all I got for you. Wasn’t really expecting company.”

“That’s… That’s plenty fine, Tony. Thank you,” Steve said. He stared at Tony for a moment, then grasped the clothes in his hands tightly, standing up and bringing his bag out back with him, the idea of being clean too tempting to ignore, despite his previous hesitation about Tony’s motives. 

Out back, there was an awning that covered a few square feet. At the edge of it, as far away from the house as it could be without being out in the open, was a fire pit, lit with its embers just starting to fade, and a large pot of water held above it with metal rods. 

Steve walked over to the pot and put both his clothes and bag on the slab of wood that was laid out next to it. He stripped quickly, shivering as the chill of the air hit his skin, and hesitantly touched the water. Finding it not too hot, Steve began to rinse himself off, washing away all the grime that had built up over the past few days. Despite the chill from the air, he sighed and relaxed into the warmth of the water, relishing in the feeling of being clean. 

Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he used his old, still slightly damp, clothes to dry himself off most of the way, before putting on the clothes Tony had loaned him. The shirt was a little tight across the shoulders and chest, and the pants were biting into his hips a little, but they were clean. Steve searched through his back for his comb, running it through his hair to get it to look somewhat nice, put his shoes back on and gathered up his clothes before heading inside. Steve let out a soft breath at the warmth of the cabin, involuntarily shuddering. 

Hearing the door open, Tony looked up from where he was standing at the stove, pausing once he noticed Steve. Steve cleared his throat awkwardly and gave Tony a small smile. 

“Thanks for the clothes, Tony,” Steve said. Tony nodded and gestured over to the small table and chairs next to the couch. 

“No problem. You can lay your wet clothes out over the chairs. Food is almost ready.”

Steve nodded and dropped his bag back on the floor, laying his clothes out over the backs of the chairs, hoping they’d dry quickly. Tony served the food onto a couple of plates and brought them over to the table, sliding into one of the seats and digging into his food. Steve followed suit, sitting down on the other chair.

“This smells great. Thanks,” Steve said, picking up the fork and shoving a bite of potatoes into his mouth, humming happily at the taste. 

“No problem. It’s just potatoes with some herbs thrown in. I’m not much of a cook.”

“Well, it’s better than anythin’ I’ve had in a bit, so it tastes great to me,” Steve said, giving Tony a smile between bites of food. Tony smiled back and went back to eating. The two of them ate in relative silence, Steve practically inhaling his food, thankful for something warm and filling compared to the endless granola bars and occasional rabbit he hunted. 

As they were finishing their food, Tony took a sip of water from a glass he had brought over as well, and he looked up to Steve.

“So,” Tony said. “You never really said why you were out here. You said you’ve been traveling for a while… but why?” He looked at Steve, head slightly tilted. He still had that wary look in his eyes, but now there was curiosity mixed in there as well. 

Steve swallowed and frowned, the grief that he had been running from threatening to claw at his insides again, paired with the hesitation of telling his life story to some stranger, let alone someone who possibly was going to kill him, even though Steve grew more convinced that wasn’t the case every minute he spent with the man. He stared down at his nearly empty plate, fists clenching unconsciously.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell-” Tony started, but Steve shook his head. What the hell. He had nothing left to lose, anyway. 

“It’s just… I lost my ma, a few months ago. To TB. ‘M still trying to deal with it… I guess,” Steve said, shoving another bite of food into his mouth to keep himself from saying more. This was a stranger, for God’s sake. 

Tony just stayed silent and when Steve looked up again, he was frowning slightly, still staring at Steve.

“I’m… sorry to hear that, Steve. Must be rough,” he said, then gave Steve his best attempt at a comforting smile. It didn’t really work, but Steve appreciated the effort. “Where you from? I assume you’re a long way from home. You got any friends looking out for you?”

Steve grimaced at that and put his fork down, bringing his hand up to rub his temple softly. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about, but it’s not like Tony knew that.

“I’m from a small town outside Denver. My best friend, Bucky, got drafted, just a few weeks after she died. I knew it was coming, he was super healthy, but…” Steve said, then sighed and looked up at Tony. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Tony looked almost pained, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted up wryly. “God… I… Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring it up,” he said, then looked back down at his food. 

“It’s fine,” Steve said. The tension between the two of them had gotten so thick that Steve thought he’d choke on it. They couldn’t meet each other’s eyes and Steve felt gross, despite the fact that he was clean. His first contact with someone in weeks and he already screwed it up. They were silent for another minute or so before Steve gathered himself enough to look up at Tony again. 

“So… what about you? What’re you doin’ all the way out here alone? You’re pretty young, and you don’t sound like you’re from ‘round here…” Steve asked, continuing to eat his food, albeit slower now. 

Tony sighed and poked at his food with his fork. 

“I’m 23. I grew up in California. My dad… after I graduated college, my dad wanted me to get married and take over his business. I didn’t want to, and so I’m here. That’s the gist of the story, anyway,” Tony said, grumbling out that last sentence. 

“Why all the way out here, though? That seems like a big jump, from bein’ successful and going to college to here,” Steve said, watching Tony intently. “I’m sure he would’ve-”

“Don’t,” Tony said, turning to glare at Steve. His gaze was pure steel, and Steve felt himself flinch on impulse, having it directed at him. Tony stood up and walked over to the kitchen, leaning on the counter, breathing heavily. “You don’t understand the lengths-” Tony grit out, then cut himself off and stood up straight, facing Steve again. “Nevermind. It’s not important. The fact is that I can’t be back home, so I’m here. End of story.”

Steve was staring at Tony with wide eyes, chair pushed back slightly, shocked at the sudden display of anger. God, the two of them were just a mess, accidentally stepping on each other’s toes with every word. Steve immediately felt guilty, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat, staying silent, not wanting to say anything in fear of making everything worse.

Tony glared at him for another few moments before sighing heavily and rubbing his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry, God, I’m so bad with people. I didn’t mean to lash out like that,” he said, laughing sadly. “We are just a pair, aren’t we.”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m-”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. That was all me. Let’s just… forget this ever happened,” he said, then looked out the window. The sky had started getting dark, clouds starting to roll in from the storm Steve knew was coming. Tony frowned and looked back to Steve. “Hey, listen. If you want, you’re more than welcome to stay here for the night, or something.”

Steve immediately shook his head, “I couldn’t, Tony. Thank you so much for the food, it was wonderful. I really should be going, I-”

“At least stay until your clothes are dry. You can’t be going out there in wet clothes, especially with that storm rolling in. Then I can take you to the main road, if that’s what you want. I don’t mind.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Tony,” Steve said, looking at Tony hesitantly. 

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” Tony said, giving Steve a small smile. 

Steve just stared at Tony for a minute, before sighing. 

“Okay. Thank you.” He tried to ignore the warmth in his chest he felt at Tony’s answering, bright smile.

\----

An hour or so later Steve was sat in front of the fireplace, carefully peeling apart the pages of a book he had brought with him. It was mostly dry by now, but some of the pages were sticking together, paper ripping as he separated them, despite his best efforts. Steve frowned down at it, watching as some of the words on one page were now stuck on another.

Tony was sitting at the kitchen table, idly messing with an alarm clock he was supposedly trying to repair. He had been mumbling to himself for the past few minutes but Steve had just ignored it, focusing on drying out the rest of his belongings.

“So, how old are you, anyway? You never said,” Tony asked.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was now leaned back in the chair, looking at Steve curiously. A lock of hair was falling over his forehead, the rest of it in disarray from Tony running his hands through it. 

“Twenty-five. Why?”

“Just curious,” Tony said, shrugging.

Steve hummed and nodded his head toward the mess of parts that were spread out on the table. 

“You like fixin’ things?”

Tony grinned at the question, then steeled his expression into something more neutral so quickly that Steve almost didn’t notice it. Steve frowned.

“Uh, sure, I guess. There’s a town an hour or two away that I go to once every week or so, and sometimes I get roped into fixing things for some of them. It gets me a little bit of cash, at least. Not much, I can buy some necessities every once in a while, but, uh, yeah. I like it. It’s relaxing,” Tony said, clenching his jaw shut, obviously realizing he had been rambling a bit.

Steve watched him, deciding not to mention it. God, it seemed like whatever he did, he somehow said the wrong thing. He wanted to ask how he managed to afford the materials to build this place, but was quickly learning not to ask more questions than were necessary. 

After a beat of silence, Tony cleared his throat then looked back down to the table, going back to work. Steve took that as a sign and went back to his own work, digging out a pair of gloves that had also gotten wet. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of dirt and river. He’d have to wash everything soon, if he could. Maybe he could hitchhike to that town Tony had mentioned and find a laundromat. He didn’t really want to waste the money, but having some fresh, actually clean clothes would be nice. 

“So, uh, what about you?” Tony asked, and Steve looked up again. 

“What about me?”

“What do you do? Before this little escapade of yours. What did you do?”

“Ah,” Steve said, and looked down at himself. Over the past month he had bulked up a little, carrying his huge backpack around with him everywhere, but he was still pretty scrawny, as Bucky had made fun of him many times for. “I mainly helped out at the nursin’ home near me. My mom was a nurse there, and I always tagged along with her as a kid. Just kinda felt like the thing I was meant to do, y’know? Not like I could do much else. Never had much muscle on me.”

“Wow.”

Steve looked up at the weird tone in Tony’s voice, scowling. Tony was staring at him again, eyebrow raised, clearly amused at this development. 

“What?”

Tony laughed, full on grinning now. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, then laughed again when Steve’s frown deepened. “Just… it’s like you’re a poster child for the American Dream, or something. Doing what you can for your community, and whatnot. Not really what I expected from you.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah? And what’re you? The poster child for the hedonism that is California? I ain’t ever been to California, but you sure talk like the people I’ve seen on television sometimes,” Steve said, smirking.

Tony just laughed louder, eyes crinkling up at the corners, and Steve couldn’t help but join him. God, yes. This is what Steve missed most about being back home, about being with Bucky. He just missed laughing, and spending time with people. 

“So you can joke after all, Mr. America,” Tony said, teasing.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ha ha, yes, I can joke plenty fine, thank you very much.”

Tony smiled at him from across the room, something in his eyes that made Steve swallow thickly. The two of them stared at each other for a few moments before Steve felt his cheeks heating up, just a bit, and he turned away, looking back down to his lap. He heard Tony shuffling around, the scrape of the chair against the floor, and looked up as Tony walked over to him.

“Say, you wanna give me a hand? That storm coming in is bound to be nasty, and I could use some help chopping some more firewood,” Tony suggested, looking down at Steve.

“Sure,” Steve said, reaching a hand up toward Tony. 

Tony smiled and grasped Steve’s hand, pulling him up to his feet. He led both of them out the back door, and Steve shivered at the brisk temperature. The air was crisp and biting, promising a doozy of a storm. Steve was thankful to Tony for letting him stay until now, but he dreaded having to head back out into the weather that was sure to come. 

Tony seemed to notice his shiver and frowned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back inside before you know it. I only need a few logs chopped. Do you mind chopping while I gather them from the side of the house? I could do it, but you’re…” Tony said, then gestured to Steve’s general form. 

“I’m not that much more muscular than you, Tony,” Steve said, deadpan.

Tony waved a hand around dismissively. 

“Semantics.”

“Fine. Where’s the axe?”

Tony gestured to a tree stump off to the side with an axe lodged in it, and Steve walked over to it. He pulled the axe out and got to work, losing himself in the rhythm of chopping and taking the logs Tony handed to him. Even in the cool air Steve quickly began to tire, still not quite able to do much physically. 

Feeling his chest start to tighten up, Steve paused, breathing heavily. He dropped the axe and wiped his forehead with his hand, looking up to face Tony. Tony was standing off to the side, hand outstretched as he tried to hand Steve the next log. 

“Do you mind doin’ the last few?” he asked, voice a little breathy. “I, uh, have asthma, and we’re in a little higher altitude than ’m used to at home.”

Tony just continued staring at Steve, arm still outstretched. When he didn’t respond after a few moments, Steve waved his hand in front of Tony’s face.

“Tony?”

“Huh?” Tony asked, coming back to himself. Steve opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Tony kept going. “Oh, yes, sure.”

Steve reached down and handed Tony the axe, moving to stand off to the side, watching as Tony picked up where he left off.

“How have you made it this far in your trip with asthma?” Tony asked, giving Steve a look before he swung the axe down on the log.

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve been chopping trees everywhere I go. I’ve been taking things at my pace. Takin’ it slow. That fall in the river was the most action I’d seen in weeks.”

“Fair enough.”

They fell silent again as Tony chopped the last of the wood. 

Soon, they were back inside, all of the newly chopped logs stacked against the wall next to the fireplace. Both of them were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, staring at the fire as it burned. 

The storm had just started, rain pelting against the windows of the cabin. They stayed silent for a few minutes until Tony sighed and shifted his gaze to the window next to the fireplace, watching the wind ruffle the tree branches. He stared outside for a minute before turning to Steve.

“If you want, you’re more than welcome to stay the night. It’s getting kind of late, and the storm will probably let up by tomorrow. I can drive you to town first thing in the morning.”

Steve turned to look at Tony. Tony’s expression was relatively indifferent, but Steve could tell he was hesitant to have Steve go just as he was hesitant to leave. It was obvious the two of them didn’t have much contact with other people and were trying to soak it in before it was stripped from them again. 

If Steve were a better man, he’d decline and get on his way. This whole trip was for himself, anyway. He was meant to be focusing on his own state of mind, not other people. But he saw the nervousness in Tony’s eyes, the gentle biting of his bottom lip, and could feel himself caving. He knew it was probably just the loneliness in him, but he couldn't bring himself to say no. He smiled softly and nodded.

“That would be great, Tony. Thanks.”

The grin that took over Tony’s face was worth it all on its own, and Steve felt like he’d taken a breath of fresh air after months of being underwater. 

Maybe things would be alright after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + kudos are appreciated!


End file.
